iltaru

Comment and tell me why you'd like to be friends. All sensitive RL entries are locked and filtered.

Further to the flailing below, two photos of my sister and her husband on their wedding day.

( Pictures! )

My sister just got married.

MY SISTER JUST GOT MARRIED.  WHILE ON HOLIDAY. IN NEW YORK. TO HER BOYFRIEND OF ELEVEN YEARS.

Oh my God, my sister just eloped.

She is so cool that it hurts. How the hell am I going to live up to that?

MY SISTER ELOPED.

Or did they have a ninja wedding? Nobody knew about it, except, I think her other sister (who lives in New York) and, I'm assuming, her mum.

MY SISTER ELOPED TO HAVE A NINJA WEDDING IN NEW YORK IN THE AUTUMN.

Pardon me while I repair to my fainting couch.

So far today I've managed around 2500 words on my Nanowrimo. This is good, because I want to get as much done this week as I can, and I also wrote a few hundred words of my Robin Hood essay and planned out a few things.

The plans were all to do with wordcounts, though, which was interesting - I've never really considered a story in such purely mechanistic terms before, but now I'm conscious of how many words I've spent on each thing.

I already know things that I'm going to cut from this draft of Passion - a couple of the current scenes are pretty much just exercises in character-building because I couldn't work out how to start on the plot-relevant stuff. But that's the point of Nanowrimo, right? Just to write and write and write with wordy abandon, and not worry about quality.

I am worrying about quality, of course, but I'm making notes on what I'm going to do later rather than thinking about what I need to do now, which is probably the most useful thing I've got out of Nanowrimo so far. To just get it out, even if I don't particularly like it, even if I think it's useless, is an achievement in itself. Dough to be shaped rather than flour left on the shelf.

Anyway, I'm quite tired, and I haven't got particularly much more to say than a ramble about Nanowrimo. Today's been pretty quiet. Marc came over and cooked us an utterly amazing meal: prawn tangiers (prawns, tomatoes, spinach and onions cooked with lemon juice and cumin), with butternut squash roasted with thyme, and cous cous. It was so delicious that I nearly cried. And Lisa made amazing muffin-sized chocolatey things that were also amazing. I have had such an amazing culinary week. I'm jealous of two-hours-ago self who was just starting that meal, om nom nom.

But now I am going to debate with myself whether to do the washing-up now or in the morning, and possibly curl up with a book. Or maybe Stronghold 2.

I just wanted to show off my new icon, really. And apologise for the Angry Angst Post earlier, and try to be a bit more cheerful now.

So I started Nanowrimo with 5000 words - basically, the opening chapter of Passion. Today I wrote over 2000 words, which I'm pleased with. I'm trying to get a rough (so rough! I don't even LIKE the scene I just wrote, I know I'm going to cut it!) idea of how long it'll be, and how it might or might not work out with the current layout I'm pondering.

But I think I need to make a few more notes on how the current layout is likely to work before I launch too much further into it.

Still, the satisfaction of having met my goal is a nice warm glow under my ribs.

And now, I shall find a silly book to curl up with and hopefully fall asleep soonish.

Also, I've posted this on Facebook, but it's awesome enough to put again here, too!

*

“My youngest brother had a wonderful schtick from some time in high school, through to graduating medicine. He had a card in his wallet that read, ‘If I am found with amnesia, please give me the following books to read …’ And it listed half a dozen books where he longed to recapture that first glorious sense of needing to find out ‘what happens next’ … the feeling that keeps you up half the night. The feeling that comes before the plot’s been learned.”
- Guy Gavriel Kay

If I am found with amnesia, please give me the following books to read:
- The Princess Bride by William Goldman
- The Vintner’s Luck by Elizabeth Knox (but you’ll need to give me a box of tissues, too)
- Fire & Hemlock by Diana Wynne Jones
- The Demon’s Lexicon by Sarah Rees Brennan
- Tigana by Guy Gavriel Kay
- The Player of Games by Iain M. Banks
- Stardust by Neil Gaiman
(and, because it was my favourite book when I was eight and it’d be nice to re-capture that)
- Mossflower by Brian Jacques

Repost this and answer with your own list of books! And clearly, we should all make little cards to carry in our wallets, too.

1. You know what? I'm fed up of being told to do things, rather than asked. I'm fed up of not even being asked nicely. I am not your skivvy, I am your friend. I do things for my friends because I like them, but if I'm being told and not asked, I don't like you very much. From now on, I don't care, if you don't say please or thank you, if you don't ask me if it's okay to interrupt whatever I'm doing, I'm not going to bloody do it.

2. You know what else? I'm fed up of people being so fucking rude to each other all the time. All the damn time. There is never any need to be snappy with people. It makes you look like a dickhead. Be nicer to people, and people will be nicer to you. It's really very simple. I don't like people who are judgemental, self-absorbed and passive-aggressive. Most of all I hate the passive-aggressive (which is probably why I'm so misanthropic, because passive-aggressivity is the commonest personality trait. I'm doomed to be seen as a bitch, I get this). But it gives my inner bitch a vicious glow to say that, hey, if you try to manipulate me passive-aggressively, that puts you on the same moral level as my abusive ex. It's childish, cruel and rude. And rudeness is something I have been encountering a lot lately. I have a life and my own problems, and right now, there are people who are becoming more problematic by the day. Hence the rant. Which some of them won't read, but whatever. I feel better for having said it.

3. Oh my god, you know the third thing? YOU WILL SAY HELLO AND ASK ME HOW I AM BEFORE YOU LAUNCH INTO WHAT'S GONE WRONG WITH YOUR DAY. YES, YOU WILL, OR I WILL NOT TALK TO YOU ANY MORE. Some of my friends don't even ask what I've been up to lately before they start complaining. And it doesn't matter that other friends say that "it says more about them than it does about me", but do you know what? I'm not your bloody parent. I'm not around to give you unconditional love. The condition on my love is that this is a give-and-take relationship. If you're not interested in my life, then you don't want me as a friend, you want me as a counsellor and a problem-solver, and that's really fucking insulting. I'm not solving your problems unless I'm getting at least something out of this relationship.

4. Some people aren't even going to realise the parts of this that apply to them. Therefore they are also not going to get that I am saying "WHY CAN'T YOU BE A LITTLE BIT MORE SELF-AWARE?" to them too. This is okay by me, because I am too tired, ill and fed up to deal with any more drama right now.

These are the New Rules of the Kingdom of Joy.

How's everybody else today?

Today I wrote out my notes on other peoples' writing for PPK and re-read my way through all the submissions. I didn't get time to read the entireties of some of them, but wow, a couple make me feel somewhat very rusty as a writer. I have such appallingly talented friends. <3 I cannot wait for PPK. It's going to be awesome.

I also had my first chess-game-with-coach-commentary from Piers when I stayed at his last night. And then gave into temptation today, and joined the online chess site that he's on. He is currently, basically, pointedly not kicking my ass while giving me advice through the chat window, which is both very nice and extremely useful.

But anyway. I need to get off the internets soon; I have to finish packing and then go to bed, because I have to be up early in the morning to get to Patchway by 10.38 (which means leaving Cathays at 09.39, which means leaving the house by 09.25 because I need to get a ticket, which means getting up early because I need to shower).

In the meantime, I'm going to finish giggling and flailing at the force of awesomeness that is Gareth Malone. (Part of this was filmed in my dear friend Becky's dad's school!) Seriously. The world needs more people like him. He's on an admirable, passion-driven mission to rebuild communities through song. And he's good to people; he knows how to handle them and knows how to help them. In case you needed further temptation, he's young, talented and pretty...?

Also, in extremely pleasing news, I slept really well last night. That was unexpected and much appreciated. Yay for being held when you sleep, it makes everything better.

And I've been reading Tigana, by Guy Gavriel Kay. It's utterly bewitching, and I can't wait to read more.

Those are the headlines tonight. I leave you with love and a smile.

So tonight we had a cup-pie tea party, and it was awesome.

The guest list comprised Sean (ziggadon ), his boyfriend Aled, Nikki, her sister Simone, Charlotte, Piers and myself. We made many different exciting and delicious kinds of pies, and there was much mirth and merriment and wine and singing of 'I Just Can't Wait to be King'.

It made the rest of the day worth having been through, because the rest of the day before that was extremely grey (except for the buying of bookshelves, which was awesome).

But anyway. I'll post about that another time, because I still has a Charlotte, and we have much to talk about yet. Including the eternal "WTF how dumb are our parents?" - a mine of tragicomical gold.

Good times.

So today I actually got around to the writing that I wanted to do yesterday, I Was Musical with Ellen, and I commenced the sewing of buttons onto my coat. While re-watching clips of Doctor Who.

Nikki, Simone and I had lunch in A Shot in the Dark, before they went off to town/their nan's respectively. I caught up with Piers, we walked through Cathays (he had an errand and I was going to Ellen's) babbling excitedly about writing, and then I went and had mad, musical fun times with Ellen. This included a trip to the music department in order for us to sneak our way to a grand piano, and the writing of songs.

Well, we started a couple of songs, but we didn't really have very long, so we didn't finish any. But they have promise.

The writing that I managed to do, that I'm pleased with, was a bit of Gunmetal Grey - I'm playing with the layout of the section that's written in poetry - and some re-writing of the story I've been doing for Piers' birthday (which, yes, I know, was weeks ago, but I wanted it to be right. It didn't work as third-person, so now it's in first, and it feels a lot smoother).

Plus I have something to write for some prompts from a kink meme, but I'll get around to that when it wants to be written.

Actually, I also wrote a relatively long post on my DreamWidth journal about the craaazy dream I had last night. (I'm going to try regularly recording my dreams, because they should be interesting). Summary of dream: I married Merlin/Colin Morgan on a research base in Antarctica because otherwise his mind would be wiped and we were on a sub-mission as part of Rescuing Arthur, which we wouldn't be able to complete with a memory-less Merlin. Plus there was a bike ride, a panda erupting from under some snow, and Arthur dressing up in a curtain.

Yes, I think this is a symptom of writing frustration. Possibly just general brain frustration. At least there were no graphic make-outs, that would have been unkind of my subconscious.

Anyhoo. I have extremely pretty music to listen to, so I'm going to go back to sewing my buttons and pondering stories.

x + y(e + f) = extremely tidy and slightly brain-achey flandom

where

x = my troublesome protagonists have gone metafictional and I want to write about them now

y = my inner obsessive woke up. All she wants to do is CLEAN CLEAN CLEAN. This is very, very weird. because

e = I'm not used to listening to any of my perfectionist tendencies. The obsessive ones get largely blocked out, too, because my counsellor encouraged this

and

f = the Hannelore-obsessively-cleaning-voice only starts shouting about once a year. It's strange.

Dear LJ,

I think I've always been a unitarian universalist, but I didn't know what it was called until recently. Thank you, shanaqui, for expanding my vocabulary.

And now, I'm going to go back to discussing life, philosophy and religion with Nikki and Piers.

Flan times are fun times.

love,

moi

WHY AM I STILL AWAKE

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Oh yeah. Hormones.

I sorted and added icons to my journals to take my mind off the misery (by entertaining myself with pretty pictures and snark) and then it was ten to four in the morning.

Oh, body clock. How little sense you make.

Prague was amazing. I'm uploading photos as I write this post, and I'm looking forward to going through them again. Longer post on that later, perhaps when I feel a bit less 'BLEH WHY AM I HERE IT IS RAINING'.

Answer: I am here because I love Nikki. She is keeping me sane.

Missing Post-Kilve is making me feel rubbish. I miss my friends. I MISS YOU GUYS. I feel creatively burned-out, I need Kilvite chatty idea times. Or, perhaps, a very large bottle of wine.

Also, shanaqui and I have created a community for our reading-height challenge, and are hoping that others will come to join us with mad challenges of the kind - readheightetc! Come check out/join in with our fun times ^_^

So we have the internet, and it is good.

And we got results. Mine swung between 'pretty good' and 'I've-never-heard-Jamie's-voice-at-that-pitch-before good'. I'm so, so happy:

Philosophy -
Mind, Thought & Reality: 64%
The Individual, Morality & The State: 62%

English -
Addressing the Past: 70%
Reading & Identity: 72%
Chaucer: 72%
Beowulf: 80%

(I, er, may have teared up at that last one.)

Anyway, the flat has now been named The Flan because a) we are fangirls and b) Firefly Flans - Nathan Fillion mispronouncing in-joke geek times. And my stomach is reminding me that I need to cook for me, Piers and Nikki for when Piers gets here at about half seven (he's coming around because he hasn't seen Firefly yet, and so we're going to cram as many episodes into tonight as we can!).

In other news, I have a lot to update about at more length, including my violin teacher's surprise party, what I'm writing at the moment, and life in the Flan. But I'll get to that when I'm done sorting out what we're going to eat :D

...So a lot has happened in the last few weeks, during which I have coincidentally had absolutely no internet at home whatsoever.

Jamie fixed that today, however, because he is amazing.

More is going to happen this week, but I don't know if I'll have the time to do a long update today before I pack and go to Cardiff tomorrow. I'll have to see what happens.

I also have to sort through a thousand Japan photos and decide which to put on Facebook.

Times, as far as they go, are pretty good.

I really don't like the fact that that seems to indicate a hierarchy. I don't think I have a social pyramid - I try to keep up with all of my friends, because they are all important to me. In quite a real sense, all of my friends are significant others. If I do have a partner, I do treat them differently in that I probably contact them a bit more, I'm more likely to turn to them first for help, and I'll be sleeping with them and not other people, with all of the relationship differences that that brings with it. 

This is the part of me that hates the sexualisation and romanticisation of everything. Nobody should refer to anybody else as "just friends" because there should be no "just" about it. A romantic situation is not superior to a platonic one, it just has a different flavour. It also assumes that one's lover is not one's friend, which I don't think should be right either. In fact, it draws on cultural axes (plural of 'axis', not 'axe', there) that I don't like very much at all. (I'm grinding my axe on the axes, ahaha.)

If it was a case of ALL OF MY FRIENDS or MY PARTNER is going to have to die for plot device reasons in order for the world to be saved, as much as I love my partner (and you guys know how deeply I love people) I would have to go for all of my friends. It would destroy me, but I couldn't save one for personal gain if I could save so many more the other way.

But if it was a case of spending time or communicating with friends versus significant other, then I would arrange to see them all at different times, and try to keep up with them all anyway. I think it's unhealthy for one other person to be too much of your world, because everybody needs room to breathe and to grow. I love entwining myself with people, and the people who are closest to me are very close to me indeed, but everybody needs to be bounced around by other people. I don't believe one person can fulfil all of your needs, and I think it's a pop-culture fallacy to try.

Someone else may be your anchor, but they shouldn't have to be the oars and the sails and the rudder and the steersman and the captain and the crew. Which is not to say that people aren't capable of it; I just don't think that it's a position that should be promoted in the way it is.

I really don't like this question, but I'm answering it because I think the common assumptions need to be corrected. My friends are significant others to me, if not The Significant Other (when there is one), and my Significant Other is also my friend. Of course there's a distinction, but there's not a pyramid of priority. I love all of my nearest and dearest deeply, but I don't think it can be quantified.

The last few days have been absolutely manic. It's reaching a point where I can now look forward to a night of sleep. I'm still feeling that the world is turning gently around me, due to spending longtimes on the aeroplane, but I'm getting used to it.

It's ten past ten at night here, and I'm absolutely shattered. Which is good. Sleeping through the night is a good thing.

The plane journeys were long, but not too arduous. I bought a new camera battery at Birmingham, in case this one goes on the blink, and it's charging at the moment, so hopefully I can take many, many more pictures.

The meal earlier tonight had many people and an enORmous amount of food. It was delicious (or 'dericious', I believe I heard Shaun say on more than one occasion), and I would enlighten more, but my brain is utter mush from having slept for about one-sixth of what I need, a pattern repeated over the last four days.

I sum up: Life is exciting, Tokyo is shiny, food is delicious, jet lag is a bit grim, and I'm going orf to bed.

Love love love love love and alliterative titles to you all xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Not as such, no. I have recurring tropes and circumstances, though, like spiders, Lorenzo as a personification of my subconscious, fantasy battles, and sort of what-if situations with people I know. And I also have this pattern where my dreams are longer and more vivid if I'm repressing my emotions.

I did have one properly recurring dream when I was a child, however, about being in a car that was freewheeling down a hill. I dreamed that many times over about ten years, and every time the dream was slightly different. The first time I dreamed it was when I was still in a carseat. The next time, I had to get out of my booster seat and try to put one of the brakes on. Another time, Conor was in his carseat and I was in a booster seat and he was screaming and crying, and I had to get into the driver's seat to put the brakes on before we crashed. It wasn't fun.

What was realllly strange was when my dad was teaching me to drive and we drove down this one particular hill near where we live. I had to slow right down to about 20, because I'd never seen it from the perspective of the driver before, and I realised that was the one I'd been crashing at the bottom of in my nightmares. It was very strange.

Kilvites.

Coco's house.

Love.

<3

Except, you know, for the people who are missing. We miss you.